The Alpha’s Obsession with the Rejected Mate
she says, looking directly at me, “and never quite touching it. I suppose pigs will always be pigs.”
Aliya and Leah laugh, their voices grating against my nerves.
The ceremony is grand and everyone must compulsorily attend. Golden decorations, hundreds of guests, everyone who matters in the pack dressed in their finest. I stay in the back, hidden among the crowd where my scent won’t offend anyone important.
Aeron stands at the front in ceremonial red and gold. He looks like he was carved from stone—perfect posture, controlled expression. But his eyes are empty.
He doesn’t look happy.